“It’s too darn early for this.” Celestia grumbled, flicking her tail irritably.
Why in Equestria did she ever think that scheduling Twilight’s lessons on ethics and morality first thing in the morning was a good idea? And on a Tuesday, too.
Oh, sure, it wasn’t a Monday lesson, but Tuesdays were worse. Tuesdays were just Mondays in clever disguise. But Celestia was onto them, she had seen through their little ruse and vowed that she would unmask and reveal their treachery to the world!
Freezing in place, she groaned. Wonderful, just plain wonderful. Now I’m starting to go insane. “Ugh. I need tea.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her hooves in small circles against her temples. She could never think straight without at least one cup of her beloved tea, one drink of that steaming ambrosia that had been sent down from the heavens to grace all the creatures of the land with its presence.
She had to have it. Just one cup, even one sip! Celestia couldn’t function without it! Logic, reason, language, mathematics, everything went out the window if she went without it. From the warm, friendly aura that seemed to surround her favorite china cup as she lifted it to her lips to the soothing scents, the calming effects of the herbs easing her tension and readying her for a busy day of courts, visits from foreign dignitaries, day-to-day annoyances, and everything in between.
But today, of all days, she had made a very crucial mistake…
She’d overslept.
Of all ponies who should never deviate from their morning rituals, Celestia was at the top of the list. In fact, she daresay that she transcended the list and stood in a category all her own. That her routine be fulfilled was in the best interests of her nation. Her morning routine was a time-tested, sacred act that, when done correctly, left her feeling refreshed and ready to combat whatever the day might throw at her.
Today, however, that routine had been broken. Her usual attendant had been missing due to a rather bad case of the feather flu, so she hadn’t been woken until somepony realized that the sun had yet to raise to start the day. Celestia was forced to play catch up, hastily throwing on her unpolished crown and regalia and galloping to her balcony, completely forgoing the traditional scene at the Solar Observatory, and gave the magical equivalent of a “meh, rut it with a lightning bolt” to shove the moon out of the way for the sun to take its place in the daytime sky.
A small part of her hoped that Luna hadn’t been too thrown off by her near-thousand-year prison’s sudden movement. Corrupted by the powers of darkness or not, that was still her baby sister up there.
Though, if Luna had just listened and drank tea instead of that other loathsome beverage, she’d probably be standing alongside Celestia, sharing in the misery of having her morning routine thrown into disarray by a series of unfortunate happenstances.
She could deal with looking silly, she could accept reminders of her less-than-stellar moments with ease if she had tea.
But she hadn’t. With her schedule in tatters, Celestia wasn’t able to partake in her all-important cup of tea.
Everything was most certainly not fine. Without tea, she was nothing! Barely even a pony!
Why on a Tuesday? Why ethics and morality? Just flipping why?
A part of her wanted to just skip today entirely. She was Princess Celestia, dammit! Certainly, she was entitled to at least one day off every thousand years, right?
Oh, wait, there was that little detail about having to find somepony to cover for her.
Celestia sighed heavily as she pushed open the classroom door and was greeted by the sight of Twilight Sparkle, her ever-eager student, beaming up at her from her seat in the front row of an otherwise empty room.
That smile on any other morning would’ve been infectious. Today, however, it was nothing more than a reminder of the self-inflicted torture she was about to endure.
“Good morning, Princess!” She nearly flinched at her student’s volume. For one day, just one, could Twilight keep that enthusiasm to a minimum?
No, of course not. And Celestia knew that she couldn’t ask her to do so. Twilight took pleasure in so few things that she deserved to have this. Even if that came with the unfortunate side effect of giving her a nice migraine to start the day.
Celestia forced a smile and nodded in return, giving herself a mental pat on the back for managing to appear enthused. Good, just keep this up a bit longer and then go find some bloody tea.
Well, not bloody tea. Just regular tea.
Though if somepony tried to stop her…
With a sigh, she stepped up to her podium and readied herself to begin this exercise in auto psychological torment without the nourishment of her beloved tea. Surely, this was the machination of one of her old enemies. This was some revenge cooked up by Discord in retaliation for being imprisoned in stone, it just had to be. Clearly, he’d aligned himself with Tuesdays, those treacherous things.
Why else would her day have been thrown to the wind? She hadn’t overslept in centuries, her routine was set perfectly!
He’d pay. Somehow. She wasn’t quite sure if it was possible to make a statue feel misery, but Celestia was confident that she could find a way. Just give me a little time, I’ll make it happen.
“Good morning, Twilight,” It wasn’t. It really wasn’t. “Let’s dive right in, shall we?”
Her student’s grin somehow widened, a feat she had thought downright impossible. “I’m ready!” Twilight chirped. “I hope you don’t mind, but I was just so excited for today’s lesson that I went ahead and read through chapter five already!”
Celestia’s smile faltered. “O-Oh? Did you?”
Twilight bobbed her head in the affirmative. “It was so fascinating! I had no idea there were so many factors that went into how leaders, medical practitioners, and even every day ponies rationalized their decisions! Really, there are just so many...”
The more Twilight spoke, the more Celestia’s smile strained as she inwardly cursed this day. Of course Twilight would read ahead. That was hardly a surprise, in fact, it was to be expected.
No, it was the subject matter. With a telekinetic flick the textbook on her podium was open and Celestia was forced to bite her lip to avoid screaming.
Simulation questions. The book taught rationality based around hypothetical questions.
Darn it.
This day was cursed. It would be a day that would forever live in infamy. Ponies would look back on this day for years to come as the fateful morn in which Princess Celestia finally snapped.
It had been a great run. Centuries as Equestria’s sole ruler had finally taken their toll on her mind, body, and spirit, all of it culminating on one terrible morning in which everything just seemed to go wrong.
“Well,” Celestia forced her smile back into place. Just make it through. There was no reason to take out frustrations on poor, innocent, sweet, naive little Twilight, even if the little filly looked like she’d somehow siphoned the sun’s energy for class. “Then, how about we start with a question?”
Twilight bounced in her seat, nodding her head eagerly.
Too energetic. She was far too energetic this morning. Perhaps she might be willing to let Celestia borrow a bit of that in order to make it through this lesson…
Celestia cleared her throat and read the first question. “Imagine that you are walking through a village in the Badlands. You notice that a diamond dog and his pack have cornered two young griffons. The diamond dogs are armed with spears and are pointing them at the griffons. When you ask one of the villagers what is happening, they say that the pack leader is threatening to execute them for throwing stones. The leader hears your dissent and demands that you step forward. He gives you his spear and commands that you kill one of the griffons or his men will kill both. He warns you not to try any tricks, as his men have their weapons trained on you. What do you do?”
She resisted the urge to groan and slam her head against the podium. Really? This is the opening question to an introductory level book?
Hopefully, Twilight wouldn’t lose her mind over the implications. Though, truthfully, a small part of Celestia did hope that her student would balk and ask that the lesson be cut short. Yes, that would be lovely. They could leave and break for a while, discussing happier topics. Preferably, over tea.
Right. Twilight ask that any lesson be cut short. And pigs will fly.
“I have to pick one?” Twilight hummed. She placed a hoof under her chin and narrowed her eyes. “I can’t imagine having to kill anything… much less pick one over the other.”
Celestia grimaced. And here we go… “A tough decision for anypony to make,” she was quite pleased with how she managed to fake sincerity. “But, do try to remember this is all hypothetical. No pony’s life is actually at stake.”
Only my sanity if I don’t have some damn tea!
“Still, that’s a big decision…”
Just pick, left or right…
“I’m not sure I could even think to do something like that. I don’t even know anything about them - actually, am I allowed to question them? Maybe learn a bit about them and what purposes they serve to their village?” Twilight asked. She quickly flipped through her book and stopped to jab a hoof at a section on one of the last pages of the chapter. “I believe that’s the utilitarian model, right? The one with the most to offer society should be protected while the one who offers society the least should be sacrificed, by that logic.”
Blast it, she’s taking it that way? Celestia gave a closed-lip smile to hide her teeth grinding together. “You could, but then you have to stick by that logic. Also, you fail to account for the fact that one may have a family while the other is single.”
She could’ve screamed. Why? Why did she have to open her mouth?
Tuesday. That was the answer. Detestable, repulsive Tuesday. Celestia would eliminate that cursed day altogether if she made it out of this alive.
Predictably, Twilight blanched. “F-Family? O-Oh, I didn’t even—Oh, gosh! I am so sorry, Princess! The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind!”
Lost in her long-winded apology, Twilight missed seeing her mentor bring her hooves up to massage her temples. Celestia’s forced smile fell into a deep scowl.
Aaaaaaaaaaand off she goes. Great. Just friggin’ great.
Her ears lay flat against her scalp. Celestia fought down every urge to scream, shred the book with her magic, set fire to the remnants and dance around them, but only just.
There had to be something to it, something she was missing. A nightmare? A daymare? Was the latter even a thing? Had Nightmare Moon somehow strengthened her power to cast illusions and found way to use it over great distances, even from the depths of space?
No, that would just be silly. She shook her head, giving an uneasy chuckle. She would’ve used it by now, if that were the case.
Still, she subtly shifted her weight, hiding her forelegs behind the podium to deliver a swift kick to herself.
Wincing in pain, Celestia bit down on her cheek. Nope. Real. Very much real. She forced a smile, even in spite of the sound of her student droning and stammering on about the implications of such a question.
“Oh, but if the one who has chicks is a low-skill worker, he or she might be best suited—but that still leaves the chicks without a parent! But if I keep that pony and sacrifice the other, the village might lose somepony who serves a very important function in society!” Twilight threw up her hooves and pulled at her mane. “I’m sorry, Princess, I just don’t—Eep!” Her horn sparked, shooting a bolt of magic just past Celestia’s ear.
Blinking, the Princess of the Sun slowly turned to stare at the tiny, smoldering schorch mark on the wall. Without a word, she returned her gaze to Twilight. Yeah, okay, time to cut this off before she turns me into a potted plant. But how to do so delicately...
She waved Twilight off. “It’s fine, just a little accident. Now, take a deep breath. Breathe in,” she said, watching as her tiny student closed her eyes and inhaled on cue, “and breathe out.”
Twilight exhaled and let her hooves fall gently to the desktop. “I’m sorry,” she said again, her voice small and meek.
Celestia sighed and dug a hoof into the tiled floor. I swear, this little filly is going to end up fearing me or something. One day, she’s going to think something utterly silly like that I throw ponies who upset me into dungeons at random. “Twilight, let’s make this simple: left or right?”
“Left,” the little filly replied without thinking, “but what does that have to do with—”
“Congratulations, you’ve made your selection.” Celestia spoke over her, completely disregarding the expression of utter horror that crossed Twilight’s face. “Now, with that settled, I think we should just go ahead and call it a day, maybe you’d like to join me for a nice cup of tea.” I win! Take that Tuesday! Just take it! Now, let’s just bail on this thing and get her focused on something more pleasant. “What do you think? Perhaps chamomile? Or do you prefer something else?”
Twilight gaped, her ears laying flat against her scalp. “What do I think?” she cried, picking her jaw up off the desk. “I think you just asked me to pick which griffin dies like we were talking about the weather and then just brushed it off so we could go have tea! Princess, I mean no disrespect, but how?!”
A groan escaped her lips. Celestia brought her hooves up to rub at her temples. “Twilight, it’s a hypothetical question. There aren’t any griffins in danger!” She paused a moment, slowly bringing her hooves down to rest on the podium. “Well, none that I am aware of. Otherwise, I’d have cancelled our lesson and been locked in a strategy meeting with the Lord of the Griffin Territories for the rest of the day.”
You know that’s not going to cut it. Think of something, what was this lesson about? Morality! Think of something to apply to real life! Something she’ll understand about being a ruler!
Celestia wracked her brain, searching for the answer. It’s something about making choices we don’t like making, but how do I explain that to a little filly without looking like some wicked witch out of a fairytale?
The answer hit her like one of her corrupted sister’s furious attacks: keep it simple.
She held up a hoof to forestall any further comment. “I think,” she began, fighting through her caffeine deprived headache, “that I owe you quite a bit of explanation. Both for the lesson itself and, frankly, my mood this morning. I can’t promise that you’ll understand the former, but at least hear me out. Can you do that?”
To her immense relief, Twilight nodded once, her horn lighting up again to hover the quill over her notepad. “Will it explain why you’d make me pick who lives and who dies?”
I truly detest this book. “I would never actually force you to make that choice, but yes. It will explain this exercise.” Making a note to find the author and bash him over the head with his own text, she forced a smile and stepped around the podium. Celestia trotted over to her student’s desk and sat back on her haunches before continuing. “Let me start with a question: how many tough decisions do you think I’ve made since I started ruling?”
Twilight blinked, furrowing her brows in thought. “I… I wouldn’t know, Princess. Surely, it’s a big number, but what does that have to do with—”
“I’m getting there, just needed to make a point first,” Celestia cut her off. “The answer is simple: too many. Each time Equestria has gone to war, I had to make the final call. Each time taxes were raised, I signed the bill. Every popular decision, every unpopular decision, I have the final say.” She sighed and shook her head. “And it’s tough. Very tough. I can’t tell you how many times I wished I could create a third option, but I couldn’t. Or, at the very least,” she broke off to glance out the window, longingly searching the eastern horizon, “I couldn’t at the time.”
A heavy silence fell on the pair. Celestia’s head was numb, even through her body’s demands that she satisfy her ancient addiction.
Turning back to Twilight, she gave a rather pained smile. “The question was supposed to give an idea of something like that; a situation where neither option was favorable. However,” she lit up her horn, levitating Twilight’s text in her glimmering golden magic, “I think we can both agree this was just a bit too heavy-hooved for an introductory session. So, from now on, why don’t we try something a bit simpler?”
Twilight smiled sheepishly, nodding as she fiddled with her hooves. “That might be for the best. But, what about your, um,” she fumbled over the words, nervously biting her lip and glancing shyly up, “if you’ll forgive my saying, you seem a bit frazzled this morning, Princess. You’re usually so even-keeled…”
Oh, right. I promised to explain that bit too. With a sigh, Celestia brought a hoof to her forehead. “If there’s one weakness I have, it’s that I’m a creature of habit, Twilight. I’ve lived a long time and have gotten most accustomed to a certain routine—one that I broke this morning thanks to a bit of a mix up with my attendant.”
“Oh? What happened?”
“Feather flu, I’m afraid. Anyway, I ended up rushing through everything, tossed the sun up as quickly as I could, and made it halfway here before I realized my mistake.” Her ears pinned back and her magnificent white wings drooped low. A low whine emitted from the depths of her throat. Bringing her hooves up to cover her face, Celestia wailed piteously. “I forgot my tea!”
There was a clatter as Twilight dropped her quill. “That’s it?” she deadpanned, staring at her teacher through narrowed eyes. “That’s seriously it?”
Dragging her hooves down to cover her muzzle, Celestia stared back. “I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation, Twilight—I need caffeine! Think about it! I’m several millennia old, the habit is deeply rooted, I can’t fight against it. Without my brew, I can’t think straight, my patience wears thin, everything just goes blah!” She gave a very un-princesslike flail of her hooves to demonstrate.
“I see…” the little filly stared a moment, uneasy at the sight of Equestria’s ancient ruler acting so much like a filly.
The very idea!
Lighting up her horn, she floated her cup off her desk, letting it hover just out in front of Celestia. “W-Well, if you need a pick-me-up that badly, you can have the rest of this. But I’m not sure if—”
Celestia squealed, happily taking the cup in her magic before Twilight could finish. “You’re a little blessing, Twilight Sparkle! Truly, I owe you a—” She froze as a bitter odor reached her. Something wasn’t right. It was far too biting, not holding the smooth, floral scent or even the rich odor of any tea she was familiar with. It was almost acidic. Like…
No. It can’t be! My sister, maybe, but not my own student!
But no matter how she willed herself to wake up from the nightmare, the world before her remained. A world where her student, her precious, faithful Twilight Sparkle had just offered her a drink of that heathen beverage, that pretender to her beloved tea...
“Coffee!” She hissed, flaring her wings out and glaring at the cup. “This is coffee! Twilight!” She rounded on her student, who shrunk back in fear.
Now, now, go easy on her. Celestia chided herself. She took a deep breath, folding her wings against her sides. She’s young, mistakes are expected. One has to make mistakes if they are to learn.
Even if those mistakes might, in theory, lead her down the hedonistic path of coffee. Disgusting, heathen coffee!
“Twilight,” she began, keeping her voice as calm as possible given the gravity of the situation, “why in Equestria are you drinking coffee?”
Her tiny student ducked her head meekly. “W-Well, my parents prefer tea, but Shiny recommended it as a quicker way to wake up in the morning. He said it helps him get going for the Royal Guard, so, I thought it might help me be ready for your lessons.”
Ah, Private Armor. She tutted and shook her head. I’ll have a word with Cadence, I’m sure she’ll help set him straight. With a sigh, she swept Twilight into a warm hug. “Oh, my sweet, summer filly!” She crooned, gently rubbing the top of her mane. “I’m sure your brother meant well, but, I’m afraid he’s unwittingly set you on the path toward a life of jittery addiction and fealty to such a terribly bitter drink!”
Twilight pulled back, looking up in confusion. “But, I—”
“No, no, don’t worry about a thing, dear! I’ll have Cadence talk with him about it. As for you,” she stood and levitated the little filly onto her back, “I think we need to move onto a far more important lesson: your first proper tea brew.”
“But my mom makes tea for me all the time!” Twilight protested weakly.
Celestia nodded. “I’m sure she does, but clearly, she could use a lesson as well. In fact, have her come with you tomorrow and I’ll show you both how a real mare brews her tea! For now, consider this your first lesson in appreciating it.”
“Princess, forgive me for saying, but I think you might be taking this entire thing a tad too seriously!”
Stifling a laugh, Celestia turned to nuzzle Twilight. “Oh, you little jokester! And I thought you’d never share your sense of humor with me! Now, kidding aside, come along! We have a lesson to get to!”
“Okay, so, remind me again,” Rainbow Dash began, straining as she carried several sacks of coffee beans into the castle storage closet, “why do we have to hide all the freakin’ coffee ever? It’s Princess Celestia, she’s cool! I mean, sure, she doesn’t like the stuff, but it’s not like she’ll go nuts-o over it, right?”
Jolted out of the memory of that fateful day, Twilight slowly turned, her horn alight as she cast a runic seal on the room. Rows upon rows of the same sacks lined the walls behind her. “Rainbow, I’m going to say something that’ll be quite rude, but pertinent to Celestia’s visit. It’s something I need you to hear and just listen to and not question, okay?”
Shrugging, Rainbow tossed her bags on top of the rest. “Sure. Go ahead.”
“Shut up and forget this room exists until her visit is over. And don’t even hint that you drink it or have ever once enjoyed it. Not a one. Got it?” Seeing her friend’s incredulous stare and slow, single nod, she smiled brightly. “Good! Now, help me double check that we got it all. I am not hearing that lecture ever again!
